


Romance on the Battlefield

by Daastan_Go



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drama, Erotica, Explicit Language, F/M, Gallows Humor, Lust, Morbid, Multi, Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28740264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daastan_Go/pseuds/Daastan_Go
Summary: With his sturdiest shaft, he liberated her on the battlefield!
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Madara, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Kudos: 4





	Romance on the Battlefield

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Naruto is Kishimoto's property. I'm not making any money from this story.

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Sky’s blank slate with pale pink streaks filled; now, this was a decaying ground that, upon itself, wore a drape of dried-up Sakura flowers—a season at an end. There was Romance in the ideal of love: Love for Nation and love for the sake of love.

A girl's love that made trip the heart and created a ripple . . . and then, a delicious spasm travelled the length of the body that was willing. It was a trick of flesh, an illusion for the spirit that hungered. Hers was crafted to house the shaft and bleed there at the junction upon first contact, with the keen-est primal-blade he was born to wield. This rapture was base; her thrill, an older song. How truly attuned it was to the sensation? She was not prepared for the violent assault.

Out came the blade, and a weak beam ran along the taut, organic tip. Just one stroke and it ripped her open—that oddly fashioned _Rod of Creation_. It went inside and pried open the flesh's edges and its tenderness, tearing through and caring little of the consequences. So he plunged and pushed, creating room and filling _it_ as though it was made by the gods to fit neatly inside her womb, to fill it up with the _Seed of Creation_.

And further and further it went, breaking bone, tearing muscle, eager claws of a little predator abandoned by its mother, and this was its first hunt; so full of hunger and thirst it was that its inexperienced claws had _just_ tasted the first real kill!

It was not her Romance but a pageantry of her dreams. Shudders ran down her legs and so did her blood. She was chaste no more: his black steel had ruined her womb forever. The ground was inwrought with red; she was now a woman on the battlefield. He had taken her to rapture and back, red and white agleam in wild fervour.

And so the feisty blond slipped in a clumsy manner, and the cold Uchiha spectator looked on. Light faded and blood would not stop coming. The maiden had been bled dry at the field: her offspring were but the final memories of her last battle on these grounds . . .

Long blood-stilling sound of denials lapsed into silence. It felt like an eternity to the onlookers, eyes watching runnels of red pouring out and falling down upon the ground. It was soaked in her and the innocents' blood, muddy just below the body, which dangled like a piece of meat in the air from the sturdiest shaft, which would not draw itself out; and her body had moulded so deliciously, so willingly to its shuddering shape as though a tight and wet cunnie.

A strong radiance shone from her eyes, and her moan was long and low. The strange blade was pulled out from the depths of her, and she collapsed to the ground, her body coming apart. It crumpled, legs going one way and arms another. It did not move. It did not shudder. The pleasure of another sensation was pinning it down with its immeasurable weight, and she knew it would not leave here without her ghost.

The sweet pain was immense: it crunched her bones into dust, but did not; tore out her flesh into a child's favourite confetti, but did not; rent her asunder, but did not; splayed the flesh from head to toe, but did not—a ghastly show-and-tell only the eyes of the nameless could see. She felt it all and saw nothing but the dimming sky and a sensation of it oozing out of her hole as though it was a bleeding cunt.

They all thought she would take to screaming, but she had taken it in like a cheap little girl and endured the stone-crushing thrust like a good little whore. Just a little grunt was all they heard—just a little frown was all they saw. And she had pumped a silly promise into her head in the heat of the moment; sapped now were her body and spirit. Dirty. Dry. Dying.

And he did not even deign an apology, his eyes two wild flames in Yomi. The brute. Coldly and silently, he watched the last of her farewell—her demise. No words of love were spoken, and the sky did not say anything back to her. Gone were the days of pursuing lust and gone was the future to embrace it.

All she saw was a final red sheen on the silk spreading across the sky that would be lost to these eyes forever. No songs would be sung by the lips she loved. He had not even returned her beseeching gaze; and, within the heavy haze of bewilderment and a fleeting sense of pain quickly leaving her body, everything _just_ became an unattainable and unending dream. It floated out of her chill-inviting breast right before her eyes and ceased to exist, and the blond's shrill scream became silence in the distance; and, still, she heard nothing from his uncaring lips.

_And such was the romance on the battlefield: it was silly and soft, painful and playful, ugly and undying. It ruled the hearts of fools and youngins, whilst the rest pondered its fleeting promises and deceiving tales. It, surely, was an odd sort of affair . . ._

. . . wrote the Sage, quite sagely, on a scroll of his _Ninshū Teachings_ whilst he sat squatted on the ground, his swollen anus aimed carefully at the hole that he had dug out in panicked hysterics, and passed loose stool from his bowels under the sweltering summer's sun!

_This pink-haired fool was not to be followed!_

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**The End**


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